


After So Long

by aph_england



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2015-12-26
Packaged: 2018-05-09 10:50:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5537150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aph_england/pseuds/aph_england
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alfred was insufferable at times, more often than not, but his visits were far too sparse for Arthur to truly complain when he was finally there. After all, it had been three long months since the last time they were together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After So Long

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be short, gratuitous, self-indulgent smut. Then something similar to a plot happened. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

"I'm so cold Arthur, it's always so f-fucking cold around here." 

Alfred's teeth were audibly clicking in the near-silence of the dim living room. Winters in England had always been frosty, but Arthur hardly batted an eyelash when the weather was cold enough to leave thin layers of frost etched along the window panes, unlike Alfred, who was nearly blue in the face despite the thick-knit sweater he wore over a full set of fleecy, space-printed pyjamas. His mug of warm cocoa was tightly clenched between his white-knuckled fingers, and the rattling of his teeth was violent enough to chip the average human's teeth. 

"You're exaggerating. Isn't it like this over in New York during your winters?" 

Arthur's tone was amused, as Alfred miserably shook his head and wrapped the blanket around his shoulders even more tightly. A pink tongue poked past Alfred's lips and his blue eyes crossed in childish mocking. "It snows outside and gets kinda cold, but I always had the heater on, or at least a fire going on in the fireplace! It’s always warm in my penthouse and you know it." 

"Oh hush, I have firewood in the corner and my fireplace isn't simply for display. You simply had to ask, you ninny." 

Arthur rolled his eyes at Alfred's display, but his snide tone didn’t match his affectionate gaze. He often caught himself doing that- watching Alfred with the most helplessly lovestruck expression on his face. Whenever Alfred would finally visit, sometimes after months of handling business in New York, he found that he just couldn’t be bothered by any of the traits or little ticks that would have annoyed him in the past. Whereas Alfred’s laugh had seemed too loud and obnoxious before, it was simply warm and buoyant now, and he lived to hear it. In the past, he had been annoyed to wake to the bitter scent of coffee brewing in his kitchen- now, he loved waking to the sound of Alfred singing terribly in his kitchen and the scent of coffee and pancakes. He was becoming a dangerously romantic sap and it was all Alfred’s fault.

 _It’s true_ , he had mused at one point, when reflecting on his relationship with Alfred, _what has been said about blissful domesticity._

Arthur reluctantly forced himself from the sofa and padded across the room to pick up thinly-chopped slivers of hickory, taking in the alluring scent of the fresh, woodsy musk from the pile of fodder. "Do me a favour and run to get a match from the kitchen drawer, please. Second drawer on the left, you ought to know which one." 

Alfred walked across the room like a clumsy child barely learning to walk, tripping twice over the now-ragged ends of the blanket he insisted on carrying everywhere with him. Arthur could hear the rummaging in his kitchen as Alfred fumbled around for the matches, and he carefully arranged the firewood into a neat pile inside the fireplace. 

With the American in his kitchen, he allowed himself a secret smile. Alfred was insufferable at times, more often than not, but his visits were far too sparse for Arthur to truly complain when he was finally there. This particular visit had been a pleasant, unexpected surprise- Alfred had shown up on his doorstep two days earlier, blue in the face and happily chattering his teeth. He had asked for an extension on his business trip and had been given a long weekend, and they were both making the most of their short four days together. 

Alfred returned and announced his presence with a peck to his cheek and one little match, insisting that he be the one to light the fire. 

"Matches are dangerous, Artie, and I can’t let you take the risk of burning your fingers. What kind of hero would let the love of his life hurt himself?" 

"You're ridiculous, I’m perfectly capable of lighting the fire myself," Arthur scolded, though he handed the match over to Alfred and watched as those nimble fingers lit the match on the first try. It took a moment for the small flame to catch spark among the logs, but the fire was warm and rippling in only a matter of minutes after Alfred had cupped his hands around the spark and gently blown on it to keep the fire alive. The soft crackle and pop of the burning logs was the only sound in the room beside their own breathing, until Alfred became restless and broke the silence. He was never one to remain silent for too long.

"That's just what we were missing," he sighed out with a contented shiver, draping a heavy arm over Arthur's shoulders and burying his cold nose against his collar affectionately. "I may have complained about how cold it was, but y'know what? It's not really that bad anymore, now that you're here and the fire is going." 

"And to think you accuse _me_ of complaining about everything." Arthur leant against Alfred's shoulder and playfully swatted the soft skin of his stomach. A hint of a smile passed over his lips and a rosy flush coloured his cheeks from being so near the fire. For all that Alfred complained about being cold, his skin was warm to the touch. Sneakily, his fingers crept under the trim of his pyjama shirt to press against his warm lower belly. He could feel his boyfriend’s tiny little shiver, and he hid a smile against his shoulder. 

"I... I've enjoyed having you around, Alfred. When you aren't being an annoying prat, you're surprisingly agreeable. You don’t visit nearly enough."

"Oh Arthur, tell me how you really feel. Don't hold back," Alfred quipped, pressing a kiss to Arthur's cheek with a loud pop of his lips. It was obnoxious and loud and so typical of him. "I know that even though you have to make it some sort of insult, that's your own version of a love confession. I love you too, sweetheart." 

"Oh sod off, that was no such thing." 

Arthur grumbled under his breath and frowned stormily, turning his face to the side when Alfred swept in for a small kiss. Instead, the tip of his nose jammed against his cheekbone and his pursed lips met his jaw. "I'm a poet. I could confess my love in ways that will have you choking on your own tears." 

" _Please_ , you can't even say ‘thank you’ or give me a compliment without making an insult." Laughing, Alfred wrapped his arms around Arthur and refused to allow his stubby, wriggling boyfriend to escape. He peppered kisses all along his forehead and eyebrows despite, his vehement protests and half-hearted swearing. Arthur eventually acquiesced, meeting Alfred's lips and drawing him into a short, sweet kiss. Alfred was all too happy to keep him captive, nuzzling the tips of their noses contentedly. 

"Well, that's different. Your ego hardly needs stroking." 

With his back to the American, he couldn’t see the small, mischievous smile that always signalled trouble. Arthur let out a sudden, strangled noise when Alfred’s cold fingers slipped under his sweater to poke at his sides, caught off guard by both the sudden cold against his skin and the ticklish prodding. He squirmed and sank against Alfred, a peculiar sort of terror striking him cold. “Alfred, I fucking swear-”

His threat was choked off by a wheezed laugh as Alfred began to tickle him where his hands had been roaming. His other hand went up to tickle his neck, and Arthur tilted his head down to the side and brought his shoulder up to protect his neck by reflex. His shoulders heaved with breathless laughter and he accidentally snorted, which only made Alfred laugh all the harder.

Alfred saw his opportunity and dove in to kiss the side of Arthur’s neck that had been exposed, mercifully stopping his spontaneous tickling. Arthur’s laughter slowly died down into a sweet, pleased hum, although the wide smile and warm flush remained. Alfred lovingly nipped at his neck, and he let out an offended, indignant sound.

“You’re a prick, you know that?” 

“I know, honey, you remind me every day,” Alfred said, far too smoothly. Then, belatedly, he seemed to have realised what he said and stiffened. Arthur’s scowl twitched into an amused, simpering little grin, and he arched a thick brow.

He leant in with a small smirk, and it was Alfred’s turn to blush furiously. “I’m sorry, darling, I didn’t quite catch that. What was it that you called me?”

“Honey. It’s what I like to call you in my head,” Alfred mumbled, sounding terribly, cutely flustered by his slip of tongue. 

Arthur’s expression softened and his heart fluttered pathetically. He knew Alfred was affectionate, but it was the first time that he had heard that particular pet name. He had to admit that he rather liked hearing it. “You big dolt,” he said fondly, sifting his fingers through Alfred’s hair and guiding him into a kiss. The tips of their noses rubbed, and Alfred smiled into the kiss the way that Arthur adored. His lips were soft and sweet, warm with the taste of hot chocolate and the peppermint candy canes that he loved so much.

“So, do I get any cute little love names?” he hinted, drawing his hands up under Arthur’s sweater again. This time, his hands were warm and welcome, and they wandered along his sides to gently cup his waist.

“I’m not impartial to them, though I’m certainly not going to give you the pleasure of hearing them now.” 

Alfred laughed and nosed along Arthur’s neck, peppering his skin with loving kisses. His hands rubbed up and down Arthur’s sides soothingly, thumbs stroking half-circles into his skin, and Arthur sank bonelessly against him with a quiet hum. He took in every bit of his presence- his warm touch, the scent of cinnamon and chocolate that lingered about him from earlier that morning, the gentleness of his fingers, everything.

A warm laugh rumbled low in Alfred’s throat. “I love being here with you. I love you.”

Arthur may have rolled his eyes, but he tugged Alfred down for a kiss with a wide, shy smile. “You’re absolutely ridiculous.” 

“But you love that about me, don’tcha?” Alfred’s warm breath brushed over Arthur’s lips and the soft huskiness of his voice made him melt. “I know you do.”

“I _do_ love a lot about you,” Arthur admitted, ducking his head down. He could already imagine Alfred’s wide, triumphant grin. “But don’t let that get to your head.”

“It won’t,” Alfred promised. His hands roamed along Arthur’s waist and gently pulled him close, and his lips settled onto the other’s neck and drew out a pleased hum from the smaller man in his arms. Arthur smiled, tilting his face along to match with kisses to Alfred’s cheek, nuzzling the soft skin along his jawline.

Slowly, the pecks transformed from gentle kisses to soft biting and sucking along his jaw, until the tender skin bloomed with a red mark. Arthur was satisfied in knowing that a faint mark would remain there till the morning. Alfred let out soft, breathy noises that sent thrills racing down his spine with every bite, and he couldn’t help but grin against his tanned skin. He had the most lovely skin, soft and fair, perfect for marking.

“You’re so sensitive, Alfred. I love it.” 

“Feeling frisky?” Alfred asked breathlessly. His hands strayed downward to pinch Arthur’s side, one hand cupping his arse, the other his lower back. 

“To be fair, you haven’t visited me in three months.” 

Arthur slyly snuck a hand under Alfred’s shirt, gliding his fingertips along the warm skin hidden beneath layers of sweaters and long-sleeved shirts. His own hands were cold and Alfred let out a whine of protest, but didn’t seem to really mind the way they were idly stroking along his stomach and chest. 

Alfred rolled over to hover over Arthur, a familiar, playful mischief sparkling in his baby-blues, and he tugged on the drawstring of Arthur’s ‘old-man’ pyjama pants, tugging them low enough to expose the soft, chubby flesh of his lower stomach. He rolled his palm over Arthur’s groin with enough pressure to rip a gasp from his mouth, and it was becoming clear that the tables had turned.

Arthur sucked in a sharp inhale and peered at Alfred through heavy-lidded eyes, giving a loose grin and biting on his lower lip sensually. “This is certainly one way to keep warm.”

“The very best way,” Alfred agreed with an amused snort, leaning down to steal a heated, demanding kiss.

Arthur quickly melted under his touch, only putting up the briefest fight for a display of dominance, which Alfred almost immediately won. He groaned lowly in his throat and tugged up one of the many sweaters Alfred was wearing, impatiently yanking it off and making his complaint know with a loud grumble over how many layers of clothing he was wearing.

He set to stripping off his own clothing, taking only a minute to undo the line of buttons on his pyjama shirt and pull it off his shoulders, and was startled when Alfred had somehow managed to undress and strip bare in the time it took to blink. He certainly was not complaining about the sight. Arthur instantly took to admiring the warm, healthy golden glow that still hadn’t faded from his skin, despite the cold bite of the winter months, the broadness of his shoulders, and the attractive sight of lean muscle lining his torso and arms. For all that he ate by choice, Alfred was still in wonderful shape, with only the slightest amount of fat to grace his sides- which Arthur would never complain about. On the contrary, he was rather fond of the softness about him. 

“Stop staring,” Alfred grumbled, kissing Arthur with a vengeance to make up for the sparse moments they had lost. His hands, delightfully rough along Arthur’s skin, immediately set to exploring his body as though he hadn’t already memorised it long before. He traced over every dip of muscle, bone, and fat, finding the most sensitive spots of his body. 

“There’s nothing wrong with a bit of staring.” Arthur’s breathing stuttered when Alfred’s hands squeezed the plump flesh of his rear and delivered a gentle smack.

"There's something else we could be doing though." Alfred's lips nipped the tender skin below Arthur's earlobe, before the soft edge of his teeth trailed down the sensitive column of his throat. Arthur swallowed a moan in surprise and began to rut this hips against Alfred's groin, the thin pyjama pants that separated them providing wonderful friction but a pesky boundary. 

"Pants off," Arthur instructed, though his voice came out more soft and breathy than commanding. "You've kept me waiting for three months and I'll be damned if I have to wait any longer." 

Alfred's response was a breathless laugh and soft kiss that trailed down from Arthur's collar to his nipples. He stole a startled gasp and sharp inhale from the Brit when he began to tug on the nubs with his teeth and flick his tongue against the sensitive skin. The fingers on his other hand began to tweak the nipple that was left alone, and Arthur positively melted against him without a struggle. 

His fingers knitted into Alfred's soft hair, sharply tugging on the strands and gripping even more tightly when Alfred reciprocated with an unexpected bite to the sensitive skin. 

Alfred swirled his tongue along Arthur's flushed skin, teeth biting and nipping along his collarbone to leave pretty, purpling marks. The traces of wetness left behind by Alfred's mouth cooled and sent shivers racing up Arthur's spine, his back arching and teeth teasing the skin of his lower lip. If Alfred continued with his wretched teasing, Arthur's lip would be raw by the end of the night. 

"Wait, just let me..." 

Arthur pushed lightly at Alfred's shoulder and he rolled obligingly onto his back, sparkling blue eyes lit with curiosity. He straddled the American's hips and kissed him sweetly, rendering him speechless for the first time since he arrived. Alfred raised his hands to the tops of his thighs and rubbed his thumbs in slow circles over the smooth skin.

"Do you want to top?" 

Alfred's expression was sweet and inviting, and Arthur's heart beat just a bit faster in his chest. He smiled back shyly, promising lust and unconcealed affection with his gaze alone.

"Not tonight. Just lay back, you don't have to do anything. I want to-" Arthur gestured vaguely with a warm flush, and his younger lover caught on immediately. 

Arthur's hands trailed down Alfred's bare chest, tentatively touching warm skin and following the thin, faint trail of hair that led down his navel to the base of his cock. Alfred inhaled sharply and Arthur traced the length with the tip of his index finger, teasing the head and circling the slit, if only to watch the way that Alfred's face twisted with extreme pleasure. 

"That's not fair. I didn't tease you like that," he complained, inhaling sharply. Arthur was pleased that such a small motion could garner a strong reaction and he shrugged, deceptively nonchalant. 

"Things will rarely be fair in life, love."

Without very much of a warning, he lowered his upper body and pressed a kiss to the crown of Alfred's cock. He kissed down every inch of his shaft, dragging his tongue along the pronounced vein on the underside of his length, and breathed out warm puffs of breath along the wet skin. Shoulders coyly low, his hips were purposely raised high in the air as he swept the flat of his tongue in broad strokes along his length. 

Alfred's hand dropped to his hair and tangled almost painfully, before he caught himself and loosened his tight grip on Arthur’s hair. Arthur only moaned in response, aroused by the brief sting at his scalp, and placed his hand over the other’s in gentle encouragement. Alfred tugged on his hair and lightly pushed him down further into his lap, which Arthur easily took in stride. It wasn’t long before his boyfriend was panting heavily, chest rising and falling shallowly and little whines slipping from his lips, and rocking his hips subconsciously. Clearly the months of separation had greatly reduced his stamina.

"A-Artie, I'm gonna cum," he warned with a gasp, nudging at the him. Arthur ignored him and continued to suck and fist his length, allowing Alfred to pull him closer into his lap and murmur encouraging words that would have bordered on filthy and lewd, had they not been spoken with such adoration. He gently patted and sifted his fingers through Arthur’s hair in apology for the harsh tugs from before, then curled his fingers into his hair again, guiding his mouth lower. Arthur’s mouth bobbed along his cock and he dragged his tongue along his length, open-mouthed and panting. His cheeks felt hot and his eyes were beginning to tear, but he focused instead on the panting, writhing American below him. He could only imagine how he looked to Alfred- teary-eyed, trembling, gasping and moaning, a complete mess above him.

Alfred let out a final, weak moan and Arthur opened his eyes in time to see him shudder, gasp out his name, and bite his reddened lower lip as he came. He adored the completely blissed-out, euphoric expression that crossed Alfred’s face. He wouldn’t ever tire of seeing it. 

“Oh god,” Alfred breathed. His voice was breathless and tremulous, and he sounded utterly fucked. “ _Wow_.”

Arthur couldn’t help but laugh at his dazed expression. Languidly uncurling from Alfred’s lap, he stretched his coiled muscles and wiped at the corners of his mouth with only the smallest hint of embarrassment before sinking down and pressing flush against Alfred’s bare chest. He could feel the warm, rapid rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, and he even imagined that he could feel Alfred’s heartbeat pounding rhythmically against his skin. Alfred placed a hand on the small of his back, rubbing the sensitive spot at the end of his tailbone in soothing little circles with the pad of his thumb. Arthur lay against him and felt the gradual shift in his breathing as he receded from his high. The hand on his lower back slowly crept lower after some time, and he had to stifle a moan as his fingertips brushed his sensitive crease. 

“I haven’t forgotten about you,” Alfred murmured, voice molten and husky. His other hand dropped to Arthur’s erection and gently squeezed around him. 

Arthur’s hips rose of their own accord and he nearly gasped, but he pointed his nose in the air and looked away, as if his stiff cock wasn’t presently in Alfred’s hand. “And here I thought that I would have to take care of myself, just as I did the last three months.”

Alfred laughed low in his throat and rolled them over, straddling Arthur and cradling his jaw in his palm. “Ouch, babe. That hurts. You make me feel like a shitty boyfriend.”

Arthur snorted but didn’t retort. Instead, he curled his fingers into Alfred’s soft hair and brought him lower to touch the tips of their noses together. “Not a shitty boyfriend. Perhaps just a negligent one.”

He closed his eyes as Alfred swept him into a kiss, parting his lips and responding sweetly to the small motions of Alfred’s tongue against his own. His hands traced over every curve and dip of muscle in his boyfriend’s back and his fingernails left behind faint traces of pink whenever he tauntingly scratched down the golden skin. 

“You’re a mean little tease,” Alfred groaned against his lips, before rolling his hips against Arthur’s _hard_. That sent a jolt of desire racing up his spine, and his body was acutely reminded that it had been three long months since he had been properly bedded.

“Alfred love, as much as I adore all this banter and teasing, can we hurry it along?” Arthur flushed deep red right to the tips of his ears. “I’m becoming rather desperate. Don’t make me beg.” 

“I won't make you beg. I have to make up for these last few months, right?” Alfred smiled that devastatingly handsome smile and slid his warm palms along the sensitive inside of his thighs. Arthur inhaled sharply and bobbed his head curtly, dangerously close to forsaking his pride and simply asking Alfred to fuck him outright. His boyfriend wasn't too far behind– he was beginning to look equally desperate. 

“God, the lube is upstairs,” he suddenly remembered, and smacked his hand to his forehead with poorly veiled impatience. Arthur coughed with embarrassment and nudged Alfred's naked side with his knee. 

"I actually may or may not have some in the drawer of the coffee table.”

Alfred's expression quickly gave way to a wolfish grin and absolutely amused, aroused sparkle in his blue eyes. “In the living room? That's kinky,” he teased, before falling over when Arthur lightly kicked his side. 

“Oh, fuck off, Jones!” Still, the heated blush that Arthur felt burning his cheeks was terribly incriminating. 

Alfred only laughed and hobbled to the coffee table in search of the lube. Arthur made a noise of irritation and cursed him for taking so long to find it, although Alfred's search presented the perfect opportunity to stare at his naked body. Arthur stared down every inch of his finely muscled back, before taking in the sight of his perfectly rounded ass. He loved Alfred's plump backside. 

“See Artie, I could fuck off, but I'd much rather fuck you. And now I have the lube to do it,” Alfred called cheekily, triumphantly holding out the slender tube of lubricant in the air. 

It felt like an eternity, but Alfred eventually returned to the little nest they had made out of their clothing and blanket, and his bare, warm body was finally pressed flush to Arthur's own. Alfred kissed him heatedly, warming him down right to the tips of his toes, before finally uncapping the small bottle of lube and applying it onto his fingers liberally. Arthur watched every one of his movements and held his breath when his hand slipped between his shyly parted legs. 

Alfred traced a slick finger around the pucker of his entrance, and he swore that no matter how many times he was stretched, the intimacy of it would never fail to make him blush madly. His inner thighs twitched and Alfred kissed his chin reassuringly before beginning to penetrate him with his finger. Arthur stifled an embarrassing whimper and closed his eyes, focusing on the sensation of slowly being stretched. He angled his hips higher when Alfred came closer to hitting the sensitive spot inside him and his fingernails weakly scratched down Alfred’s back.. 

“Oh, fuck,” he breathed out tremulously, repeating the words over and over soundlessly, pressing his face deeper into the blanket and allowing it to swallow his silent gasps and muffled whines. Arthur shivered at the touch of Alfred’s hand caressing the back of his thighs comfortingly, and backed into the light touch. The tip of Alfred’s finger slipped past the tight ring of muscles and stopped, and he inhaled sharply. His entire body tensed, and he felt smothered by the heat that had risen to his face.

“It’s been so long, Artie. You’re so tight.” Alfred sounded wistful, longing, and aroused, and the husky timbre of his voice sent heat racing down Arthur’s spine. _Of course he was tight, it had been months since the last time they had gotten together like this_ , he wanted to say, but the words wouldn’t find their way to his mouth. He closed his eyes, arched his hips, and bit back the needy whine that had threatened to erupt. It wasn't until he was stretched by a third finger that he began to feel the ache in his lower body and gasped out, biting down on his lip to silence any shamefully loud noises. Alfred's hands were skilled and steady and strong, and the look of intense concentration on his face sent the butterflies in his stomach into a tizzy. 

"Does that feel okay?"

Arthur let out the breath that he hadn't realised he was holding and nodded, eyelashes fluttering shut. "Y-Yes... It feels good."

Alfred smiled happily and hovered over him, drawing him into a chaste kiss that didn’t quite match what his fingers were doing. Arthur nearly choked on his own moan when his fingers brushed against the tender spot inside him and crooked just right. He ached and smouldered, and it was overwhelmingly fantastic. His legs began to tremble and his breathing was laboured, but his expression was ecstatic. 

Just as the pressure was building in his lower stomach and the heat was beginning to race throughout the rest of his body, Alfred's fingers abruptly retreated. Arthur let out a frustrated sob by reflex, but before he could open his mouth to utter a complaint, Alfred commandeered him onto back and slid again between his parted legs. The head of his cock pressed against his entrance and Arthur held his breath when Alfred began to push in slowly. The smouldering ache burned through the rest of his body but he craved it, and his blunt fingernails dug into his boyfriend’s broad shoulders, leaving small, bloody crescent-shaped indents in their wake. 

"Oh, fuck," he breathed out, momentarily forgetting how to breathe and struggling to get air into his lungs. Alfred shuddered heavily above him and his hands subconsciously gripped his hips harder, certain to leave five perfectly fingertip-shaped bruises on his fair skin. The rough touch only made him shudder, and he entertained the thought of being marked and bruised for days. 

It clearly took all of Alfred's restraint not to snap his hips forward again and again. Instead, he waited until Arthur finished adjusting, nodded, and experimentally rolled his hips. Alfred drew his hips back before thrusting slowly, and gained momentum with every deep thrust until he created a heady pace that had Arthur sobbing in pleasure. His hips met the back of the Brit’s thighs, and the resounding smack of flesh echoed in the room, only occasionally interrupted by the crackle of the logs in the fireplace. 

Arthur's head was tipped back onto the blanket, hair splayed and messily sticking up in all directions. His hands fisted the knitted sweater that Alfred had haphazardly stripped off and thrown aside, and he desperately rocked his hips forward to meet every one of Alfred's thrusts. He was past the point of moaning; his mouth had long since fallen open in a silent gasp, and his chest was delightfully tight with the need for air. His brow was wrinkled with pleasure and he could feel the tension building in every muscle in his body. Every fibre of his being screamed for release, but his mind couldn't find the words to tell Alfred precisely what he wanted. 

“H-Ha, harder, _fuck_ ,” he panted, letting out a desperate wail that he would later furiously deny having made. 

Alfred brought Arthur’s knees to his chest, effectively bending him in half and allowing for his thrusts to strike deep against the sensitive spot inside him. The dizzying pleasure left Arthur breathless, and Alfred leant over him to kiss his parted lips, stealing away the bit of air that he had. The tightness in his chest, coupled with the hard, jolting thrusts of Alfred’s hips, sent Arthur spiralling into an orgasm that made him see white, and his body curved into a painful arc as he came between his chest and Alfred’s. His vision was blurry, but he could see Alfred’s face near his own and kissed him, feeling the rhythm of his hips stutter. 

“Oh god, Artie,” Alfred moaned, panting against his lips and unintentionally tightening his hold on Arthur’s hips. His entire body went taut as he gave a final thrust, before the heavy shudder raced down his spine and he fell slack against Arthur. Arthur let out a weak moan, feeling the sudden warmth that flooded inside him, and patted Alfred’s relaxed back, idly stroking the sweat-dampened skin stretched tight over his muscles. 

It was contentedly silent in the living room, only interrupted by the occasional pop of the logs in the fireplace. Eventually, their heavy panting mellowed down, and Alfred finally rolled off him. Arthur let out a hiss as the slightly cooler air came into contact with his warm skin, and he turned reflexively toward his boyfriend. He could feel the pleasant, euphoric heavy-headedness that accompanied an explosive orgasm, and he sighed happily against Alfred’s skin. He was beginning to feel drowsy and sleepy, despite knowing that he ought to stand and clean himself off before napping. His internal dilemma came to an end when Alfred let out a tired, muffled giggle against his neck.

“God. I should come visit you more often, if that’s how you’re gonna welcome me every time.” 

Arthur let out an indignant, flustered sputter and smacked Alfred’s lower stomach with the back of his hand. Alfred curled in on himself to protect his vulnerable stomach from any other attacks and laughed, before throwing his arm over the other and pulling him in impossibly closer. Arthur grumbled into his skin and made a useless struggle of trying to push him away, but his arms were trapped against his body by Alfred’s embrace. Eventually, he gave in and simply buried his face into the crook of Alfred’s shoulder. 

“I’m totally kidding, baby. I’m gonna visit you more often because I miss you and I love you and I miss you way too much when you’re gone.” 

“You’re going to leave on Tuesday, you cheeky bugger, and you likely won’t come back until late spring,” he said quietly. Although it sounded like any other of his half-hearted grumblings and complaints, they both knew it was true. Alfred would find an excuse to break away from work on Valentine's Day, spend a long weekend romancing him to make up for lost time, leave, and not escape from work again until his birthday in early July. It was business and Alfred was a busy man. They had both known it upon entering the relationship, but it was still a miserable arrangement. Alfred was slightly more sombre after being reminded about his absences, and he buried his nose in Arthur’s hair wordlessly.  
There was only a brief moment of silence before Alfred broke it again. 

“Just don’t leave me for the pool boy, okay?” His words were somewhat muffled by Arthur’s hair, but he heard them and smiled tenderly. 

“I won’t leave you for the pool boy, Alfred. I won’t leave you for anyone else.”

Arthur sighed sleepily and shifted in his arms until he was comfortably pressed together, fitting as though made for one another. He was almost ready to fall asleep, drowsily content to have Alfred stroking his sides and a warm fire in front of him, but he could feel that the American remained wide awake. His own eyes were beginning to close and his head felt pleasantly heavy with sleepiness when he felt Alfred’s soft lips press to the nape of his neck. He felt the words whispered against his skin more than he heard them, but the tender message was loud and clear.

“I love you.”

Slowly, he shifted in Alfred’s arms and pressed his lips to the vulnerable, soft spot at the base of his throat.

“And I love you.”

**Author's Note:**

> I had originally planned to work on chapter two of Petrichor, but then I realised that I wanted something sort of fluffy and winter-y. Chapter two should be out sometime by the first week of January, if all goes according to schedule. And who knows? Perhaps I'll write a second chapter to this drabble too.
> 
> Happy Holidays!


End file.
